


all the world will be your enemy

by teddykeeps



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Study, Eventual Relationships, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Nonbinary Shinguji Korekiyo, Past Abuse, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:20:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24125788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teddykeeps/pseuds/teddykeeps
Summary: it was all fake.they should have realised it. the cameras, the bizarre rules, they all make sense when introduced to the fact of fiction.even so, they're still plagued by guilt of false memories.
Relationships: Amami Rantaro/Shinguji Korekiyo
Comments: 14
Kudos: 75





	1. one

korekiyo knows that kokichi is sitting next to their bed, knows that his foot is tapping against the bedframe, knows that he knows-

“you’re faking being asleep.” kokichi’s voice is louder than the gentle hum of the lights, louder than the nurses’ hushed voices when they think they’re sleeping, but they force an eye open to affirm kokichi’s suspicions. “see? liars know liars.”

they want to ask what kokichi’s goal is, but korekiyo’s voice is stuck in their throat (dehydration, they tell themself. if the vocal folds are not lubricated properly, they won’t work) and they resort to barely tilting their head to look at kokichi properly.

the result is… not what they expected. instead of the straitjacket-like uniform he wore in the- in the game, kokichi is wearing papery scrubs that hang off his thin limbs. his arms are almost painfully bony, a detail that korekiyo presumes was hidden by the sleeves of his (admittedly strange) uniform. his skin is still pale, possibly even more so than before, although that effect may be exacerbated due to the hospital’s lighting. there’s a cotton ball taped to the inside of his left elbow, a centrepiece for a plethora of bruises from haphazard iv placement. the boy in front of them somehow looks both more and less alive than he did in the game, and korekiyo struggles to remind themself that this boy is somehow a month and ten days older than him.  
the boy in front of them looks exhausted and malnourished, but less plastic (is that the right word?) than before. without his confident façade, the one that seemed so painfully obvious to korekiyo, kokichi is infinitely more human than the ‘supreme leader’ of the game.

“are you wondering why i’m here?” kokichi’s voice is too loud, and it hurts to listen to, but korekiyo nods minutely, closing their eyes momentarily to readjust their focus. “it’s because i’m madly in love with you! you’ve just been consuming my thoughts in every waking moment, and i just couldn’t hold myself back anymore!” it’s an obvious lie, and the corner of korekiyo’s mouth twitches amusedly. “no? that wouldn’t be too effective on you, would it? you’ve got a thing for your sister.” any trace of a smile fades from their face, and their hand shoots out, wrapping long fingers around a thin wrist and squeezing tightly.

they know that they’re losing their composure, but the anger that courses through them at the mockery of their sister is too much to just let simmer down. letting themself do this, although it contradicts almost every one of sister’s rules, is a strange form of catharsis that they don’t think they’d be able to get in any other way. they don’t focus on the skin-on-skin contact the way they usually would if they were touching someone, their focus instead on the tension in their hand as their fist clenches around kokichi’s wrist.

kokichi’s eyes widen for a second, registering the glare being sent his way before laughing nervously, pulling his wrist from korekiyo’s grip.  
“this has been fun, but i’m not really looking to become your third victim.” he stands up quickly, and korekiyo watches him scramble to leave, rubbing his wrist. the door falls closed behind him, landing with a loud thud that makes them flinch.

“i- i must apologise, sister. i lost my composure, i should not have-“ they force the words out from their aching throat, and they’re almost shocked at the hoarse scratchiness of their voice. forcing themselves to sit up, they reach for the water on their desk, taking slow sips until the plastic cup is empty. of course, sister would never taint herself and speak through such an imperfect vessel.

“you need to atone, korekiyo.” they nod to themself, fiddling with the safety pin holding the bandages on their right arm until it releases. the air is cool on their skin, but they don’t take the time to savour it before picking up the pin, testing its sharpness with their fingertips.

the scratch and pull of the pin isn’t as clean as the knife they’re used to using, and it burns in a different way that doesn’t feel right. nonetheless, they watch the droplets of blood slide down their arm and over healing scars as they methodically make line after line of thin cuts. it takes longer this time for sister to be satisfied; admittedly understandable, but the gnawing anxiety of being caught burdens korekiyo more than it should. they press some of the toilet paper against their arm until the bleeding has stopped, then rewrap their arm with the same practiced motions they’re used to watching.

they pull their knees to their chest, sitting silently, lost in thought until the nurses come to collect them for their session with the psychiatrist. a warm hand takes theirs, and they can’t help but feel repulsed by the touch; the nurses are too close, and they crave the quiet itch and pressure of the bandages that wrapped their hands before. they’d prefer being left to collapse in the hall than keep that warm touch against their skin, but they don’t say anything. instead, they let themself be guided into the psychiatrist’s office, barely meeting shuichi’s eyes as he passes them. they run the pad of their thumb over their nails, pressing gently on a hangnail until they get a twinge of pain, grounding themself just enough to be able to look at the psychiatrist for a moment. they’re helped into a chair, then left alone with the psychiatrist.  
they’ve never tried to learn her name, but they’ve never talked enough to the danganronpa team to need to.

“do you feel like talking today?” the question irritates them slightly, even if they know it’s just to be polite. they’ve never had the choice of whether or not to speak, and the psychiatrist knows it. nonetheless, they maintain their composure and remain silent. “why don’t you tell me about your sister? anything that comes to mind?”

“haven’t we already exhausted this subject?” they’re tired of being asked the same questions, the ones with no real answer. every question seems to be a trick question or some kind of ploy to get them to give up information.

“did you love her?” a shudder ripples through them at the psychiatrist’s tone – or at least, that’s what they tell themself.

“she was everything to me. i did everything for her, i was who she lived thr-“

“is that love?” korekiyo stops in their tracks, looking up properly for the first time.

“it depends on how you define love.” their words are composed, calm, hand-picked for their desired effect. “the ancient greeks had many different terms for each aspect of love. even so, it is a… difficult thing to define.”

“you’ve avoided the question.” the psychiatrist is leaning forward in her chair, and they can’t help but feel intimidated. “i think we both know why.” they look down, picking at the skin on their hands.

“yes, because i don’t want to talk anymore.” their voice is shaking (you mustn’t waver), but they grip the sides of the chair and push themself up, ignoring the rush of dizziness that crashes over them, making them sway slightly before they straighten their spine.

it’s impossible to ignore kokichi, who is now standing right in front of them with… a bandage on his wrist?

(surely they hadn’t done that?)

“kiyo, you’re so mean! all I did was try to be nice to you, and you tried to break my wrist!” irritation bubbles in their chest, but they swallow it down.

“sure.” they look straight past kokichi (not difficult, given their height difference of over a foot) and walk back to their room. well, they try to walk back to their room. when they’re mere metres from their goal, their legs give out from underneath them.


	2. two

they wake up in their room, and they shudder at the thought that someone will have touched them to get them into their room. they sit up, wincing at the twinge of pain in their arm. there’s a nurse sitting in the chair by their bed, watching them.

“how are you feeling?” they fold their hands in their lap before looking at the nurse. “same as usual?” they nod, grateful that she doesn’t push any further. “if you take another fall, we’re going to have to put you in a wheelchair.”

“i’m aware.” the nurse watches them quizzically, and they let their vision drift and focus on the door. it’s not really of any interest, but they prefer their intentional ignorance than the watchful eye of the danganronpa team.

not long after the nurse leaves their room, the bell for dinner rings, so korekiyo supposes there wasn’t much point in her leaving in the first place. nonetheless, they wait until she returns, this time with another nurse. they walk to the cafeteria, even if it is more like them being pulled alongside the nurses.  
the others are already sitting down, and they stop talking for a moment, sideways glances obvious, before returning to their conversations.

the nurses guide them to a seat, even though it’s painfully clear that neither parties are comfortable with each other. they keep their eyes on the table in front of them, chewing their lip as they avoid looking at the people around them. they register the plate being set in front of them, but they make no effort to move until they feel a foot kicking their ankle.

“you should eat something.” rantaro’s voice is gentle, and his enigmatic half-smile comes into view as they look up. they’re surprised that he’s even acknowledging them, let alone actually talking to them. “what?” they suppose that their surprise must be visible, which, given the absence of their mask, is a likely possibility.

“i’m sure you’ve observed that the others are…” they trail off, watching the people around them talk casually, occasionally sending small glares their way.

“less compelled to talk to you? yeah.” his bluntness is almost refreshing, a stark contrast to the white lies and niceties put on by the nurses. “but, whatever happened in the game shouldn’t really be too relevant at the moment, right? i mean, tsumugi bashed my head in and we’re cool.” he shrugs, then nods towards their plate. “you still need to eat.”

korekiyo hesitantly raises some of the rice to their mouth, swallowing it down with the bubbling anxiety the minute amount of salt raises. after forcing down the mouthful, they’re almost painfully nauseous.

“hey, do you want to see something i figured out how to do yesterday?” the question catches them off guard, but they nod nonetheless, amusedly watching rantaro pick up a napkin and fold it intricately, shielding it from korekiyo’s view until it’s taken the form of a rabbit. “i did it better with the tutorial in front of me, but look!” he holds the rabbit in front of korekiyo’s face, letting them take it and examine it carefully. “i’ll teach you later,” he states, folding more napkins into a neat square and sliding it into his pocket. he watches them for a moment, then pushes his chair out. “are you ready to dip?”

they’re still surprised by the fact that he seems to actually want to spend time with them, and so is the rest of the group. that much is made clear when the clas- group goes silent as rantaro helps him up.

“let’s go to my room.” rantaro barely touches him as they walk, just a steadying hand on the shoulder when korekiyo inevitably stumbles. “you good?” they nod mutely, solely focusing on getting to rantaro’s room.

“is there a reason you wanted me to come with you?” rantaro shrugs.

“not really. just felt like hanging out, i guess.” he pulls the napkins out of his pocket, smoothing them with his palm before placing them in a drawer of the nightstand, save for two. “also, himiko looked like she was gonna stab you with her fork.” running a hand through his hair, he sits on his bed heavily. “you don’t have to keep standing around, you know. you look like you’re going to drop.” his informality is strange, but they can’t tell whether it’s a façade or whether he has just recovered abnormally fast.

though, it wouldn’t be too abnormal considering how little of the game he saw.

“have you done any origami before?” rantaro asks, dropping one napkin into their lap.

“a… couple of times, i think. i can’t remember having any particularly successful attempts, though.” rantaro nods, folding his napkin in half diagonally. “should i copy you?”

“hmm? oh, yeah. sorry.” he rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “i’m not the best at instructions, huh? so, you just fold the diagonal corners together, make a crease, then unfold it.” they follow his instructions, running a nail across the fold before flattening the sheet. “then fold those corners in until they meet like this,” he looks over at korekiyo’s napkin. “yeah, that’s good.” they watch him fold the sheet a couple more times, then copy him, a surprised laugh escaping when it looks like rantaro’s. “you got it! wait, what do you think it’s supposed to be?”

“a worm or snake?” he nods. “maybe an eel?” that earns a short laugh from rantaro, and they can’t help the rush of warmth that it brings.

“it was supposed to be a snake, but i guess all of those could work. what would you like it to be?”

“what would i like it to be?” they repeat. “i don’t know.”

“i think mine’s a worm.” rantaro states, swinging his legs over onto his bed and laying down, holding the folded napkin above his head. “do worms symbolise anything? that would be so cool.”

“they do.” rantaro’s head lifts at that, and he looks up at korekiyo. “usually, they’re associated with healing in either oneself or in witnessing it, but they can also symbolise taking life as it comes, and the earthworm totem represents the relationship between the sky and the earth, or the active and passive forces in life.” the information comes to them easily, and when they look down, rantaro’s grinning. “what?”

“it’s just that’s the longest time i’ve heard you talk before, and it was about worms.”

“sorry, was i bori-“ rantaro shakes his head quickly.

“no, i like your voice.” rantaro reaches sideways languidly, then pulls open a drawer and throws a handful of food at korekiyo. “what’s the symbolism of an eel? i just thought they were kinda slimy. oh, this one time, i was crabbing and this lady is struggling with her net, so like four of us help pull this net out of the water and there’s a huge eel in it!” he laughs to himself. “that was crazy.” he breaks a square off a bar of chocolate. “so, what hidden meaning is there to eels?”

“in celtic tradition, eels symbolise adaptability due to their ability to grow legs when they’re on land and shed them as soon as they get back into the water, but they also symbolise survival and good luck in some cultures. there’s one samoan myth that comes to mind when it comes to eels.” rantaro’s watching them intently, and they fidget with a wrapper as they continue speaking.   
“in the myth, there is a woman named sina. she befriends an eel, initially being frightened by it, but coming to the realisation that it means no harm. as the myth goes, the eel was in actuality an aged king who fell in love with her; eventually, he revealed his true form and apologised to her as he wanted to get closer to her before he died.”

“then what?” rantaro asks, sitting up slightly.

“he died, but just before he did, he asked sina to plant his head in the ground. and in the place where his head was, a coconut tree, one of the most useful trees in their culture, emerged. the eel hides away, and also hides within it great wonders.” they look over at rantaro. “sorry, that was long.”

“no, it was really cool. you’re really interesting, you know?” rantaro looks at the untouched sweet in korekiyo’s hands. they follow his gaze and place the wrapper back on his bed. “is something wrong?”

“no, i just… don’t eat sugar.” rantaro nods. “my sister couldn’t have sugar, so i didn’t either.”

“you must be close.” korekiyo glances out the corner of their eye.

“you could say that.” they look over at rantaro, who’s now rifling through his drawer. “do you have any siblings?”

“yeah, i do! i have five sisters, which was kinda weird because in the game i had twelve. i think they’re going to come and see me soon, so that should be cool.” he pulls his phone out of his pocket, then goes into his gallery. “that’s from about six months ago, before all the danganronpa stuff.” they take the phone and examines the picture.

“six months?” from what they could tell, they were only in the game for several weeks, so that number comes as a shock.

“i was a survivor of the last… season of danganronpa.” they nod, looking at the photo a little more closely. “they probably won’t look the same now, but i’m hoping i’ll still be able to recognise them.” rantaro scrolls through a couple more photos before turning back to korekiyo. he looks as if he’s about to say something, but a loud bell cuts through his speech. “let-“ he notices their expression and gently taps the bed next to them. “hey, are you okay?”

“i-“ they take a shaky breath and nod. “yes, i was just surprised.” rantaro seems doubtful, but thankfully, he doesn’t press the matter. “we should go.” they push themself up, cradling the napkin in their hand.

“have you decided what it is?” rantaro asks, joining them and opening the door, leaving the food forgotten on his bed.

“a snake, i think. healing and transformation.”


	3. three

korekiyo walks with rantaro to the main therapy room, anxiously picking at the skin around their nails when they see the others.

“wow, did you walk here all by yourself? you’re so grown up!” kokichi calls out, sitting on the table (he’s still keeping his distance, they notice). they chew their lip and look away, one hand reaching up to cradle their face.

they tap against their cheekbone, looking out the corner of their eye for a distraction. when the door opens again, their head twists quickly to see who it is, and they almost sigh in relief when the therapist finally shows up.

“everyone, take a seat.” she places a box of coloured card, paper, and pencils in the middle of the large table, then sits at the head while they take their seats. rantaro sits on their right, and korekiyo doesn’t fail to notice that the seat to their left is empty. “i want you all to make something that reminds you of a positive memory. preferably outside of the game, but if you want to, you can include that.” after a moment, angie pulls a piece of paper and a handful of pencils out of the box, then the others start.

the room is uncomfortably loud, the crinkling of paper seeming almost impossibly noisy. they run their hands through a section of hair, staring at the table until the rest of the room goes out of focus.

it doesn’t take long for rantaro to notice their discomfort, and he gently nudges their ankle with his foot.

“are you alright?” they nod silently.

“it’s loud.” they can barely choke the words out, but rantaro nods, nonetheless.

“it is.” he agrees, looking around the room. “is there anything i can do?”

“i don’t think so.” they focus a little more on their surrounding when rantaro slides a piece of paper in front of them, looking at him momentarily.

“it might help distract you.” they nod, chewing their lip as they look at the paper. “but i’m pretty sure they’ll be okay with it if you don’t want to do anything.” they know it’s not true, but someone who participates in everything probably wouldn’t know the consequences of refusal anyway.

they fold the paper diagonally, then tear off the strip at the top so it becomes a square when unfolded. they’re not sure why they did it, but they fiddle with the strip until the therapist speaks again.

“okay, are we all done?” she doesn’t wait for confirmation. “who wants to go first?” there’s a tense moment of silence, then kaede speaks up, holding up a simple drawing of a cat.

“i had a cat when i was little, and he was called tom.” she puts the paper back on the table.

“that’s sweet, kaede. what about you, kaito?” korekiyo freezes momentarily at the first letter, but they relax slightly when she continues to say kaito’s name. nonetheless, the reality of being called on looms over them and they fold the paper nervously.

“yeah, i don’t do art, so i just wrote down one of my grandma’s recipes that she taught me.” he shrugs, holding up his paper. the therapist is visibly less impressed, but doesn’t say anything.

“anyone else?” rantaro produces a small origami frog, setting it on the table gently.

“one of my sisters had a pet frog before, except it wasn’t really a pet frog; it was just a random frog she found in the garden. it escaped the box she put it in, and we couldn’t find it for two days until it peed on one of my other sisters’ bed.” he presses slightly on its back, then slides his finger off quickly, watching the frog leap in the air. “fun times.” he picks the frog up, completely ignoring the therapist’s pleased nod.

“what about you, korekiyo?” they freeze up, hyperaware of the group’s eyes on them. chewing their lip anxiously, they lift the paper snake, smiling slightly at the sideways grin rantaro gives them.

“rantaro taught me some origami.” they barely whisper, voice caught in their throat. even though their vision is glued to the table, they can almost feel the scrutinizing glares of the others.

“when was that?” the therapist prompts; they can’t tell if she’s intentionally being inconvenient or whether she’s just trying to get them to participate.

“before this session.” she looks a little disappointed, the expression causing a shudder to ripple through their spine.

“do you not have anything from a little longer ago?” they’re about to speak, but they’re interrupted.

“mister sister fister’s too embarrassed about his sexy secret to say anything!” kokichi sing-songs, grinning at miu. korekiyo’s breath stops in their throat, and they bite the inside of their lip to the point of it hurting.

“hey, kokichi?” rantaro looks up. “shut up.”

“come on, you know it’s true!” their whole body is tense, and they can hear kokichi still talking, but they’re not taking any of it in, and it’s too loud and they can’t breathe and-

they push their chair out, fleeing the room. tears burn the backs of their eyes as they make their way back to their room, hands trembling. they’re barely half of the way back when rantaro stops them, cheeks slightly pink.

“don’t make me go back.” they plead quietly, and even though they’re four inches taller than rantaro, they feel so much smaller.

“i wasn’t going to.” he holds out a hand, waiting patiently until they take it. he gives them a small smile, then leads the down a corridor. they’re confused initially, but they understand when rantaro opens a door and they feel a cool rush of air on their face. “do you want to sit down?” he sits on the grass, then lays down and looks up at korekiyo as they join him. “it’s nice out here, isn’t it?” they hum in agreement.

“i’m surprised you don’t hate me like the others do.” they admit, looking up at the stars.

“i’m not going to hate anyone until i have a good reason to.” his voice is gentle. “i could give a bunch of reasons why what kokichi said doesn’t change anything, but i’m guessing that’s not what you want to think about right now.” they nod silently.

“thank you.” they look over at rantaro, mildly surprised to see that he has the small paper snake in his hand.

“you left it in the therapy room, so i picked it up.” he drops it onto their chest. “it’s pretty cool that you remembered how to do it after only making one. you’re really clever, y’know?” they smile a little. “can i ask you something?” they nod, even though they’re not sure if they’ll want to answer. “you fall a lot because you don’t eat enough, right?” they’re surprised at the question, but nod, nonetheless.

“most likely.”

“but when i see you, you barely eat. if you know it’s causing problems, then why?” rantaro’s voice is gentle and musing.

“i…” they’re too exhausted to lie (or at least they’re too tired to pretend to want to). “there’s not a lot that i can eat, to put it simply.” they fiddle with the paper snake as they talk. “you know that i don’t eat sugar, but salt is also an issue.”

“salt?” rantaro repeats. “can i ask why?”

“in the game, my execution involved it.” rantaro doesn’t ask for any more information, so they don’t offer it.

they stay silent for a while, looking up at the stars. their breathing is easier now, and they realise that rantaro has done very well with distracting them. their chest still feels somewhat tight, but they’re much calmer.

“do you want to go back inside? it’s getting colder.” rantaro’s the first to talk, and they realise that it is, in fact, very cold. they shiver slightly, then sit up. their head spins momentarily as they get to their feet, and rantaro places a steadying hand on their shoulder. “take it slow, okay?”

rantaro walks them to their room first, and they realise how exhausted they are when they finally reach their room. he seems to understand, placing the snake on the table and leaving with a quiet goodbye and a gentle smile. they get changed, wincing with guilt as they catch a glimpse of themself in the mirror. their hair is untidy from being on the floor, and they look almost impossibly unkempt compared to how they used to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like my writing style changes a lot between chapters - if you notice anything that seems off or you think could be improved, please comment! (≧◡≦) ♡


	4. Chapter 4

_“darling korekiyo, surely you would not forget about me?” their sister’s face is sunken and pale, and they can’t help but recoil from her. is this really what she looked like under the oxygen masks and tubes? “why are you looking away? you told me i was beautiful.” as she talks, her lips part to reveal yellowed teeth, and she reaches out to touch them with a skeletal hand. “were you lying to me?”_

_“i would never lie to you, i could never.“ they can’t help but feel like a child again, scared of every wrong move, scared of angering anyone, scared of every single mistake they could make. their breath is staggered, but they keep breathing shallowly, keeping their chest almost completely still as they struggle for breath. like a swan, they remember. as long as elegance is maintained, it doesn’t matter what’s below the surface._

_she holds their head with more strength than she should have, brittle nails digging through their hair, into their scalp. her other hand reaches up to touch their face, clawing into their skin when they flinch away._

_“you are forgetting about me, aren’t you?” she laughs a hollow, empty laugh, both horribly familiar and unknown, and as they wonder just how much they really remember, she comes impossibly closer. “do you not remember our bond? it must always come first, remember?” a thought of rantaro runs through their mind, and they make a futile attempt to push it away. “even now, you’re thinking of him.”_

_“sister, you are-“ she silences them effortlessly, and chills run through their spine as her acrid breath grazes their skin._

_“stop lying to me!” her screech makes them flinch, makes them remember things they thought they’d forgotten, things they tried to forget, and they fall back, falling through the floor, lifting their arms to shield them as they land-_

_but they don’t land. they just keep falling, and falling, and falling, and they’re not landing. their hair is whipping their face and stinging their eyes, entangling their limbs, but they’re still not landing._

_they can’t see anything, but they can’t tell whether it’s due to the hair choking them, or whether they’re suspended in an infinite abyss. they aren’t falling any longer, but they’re not hitting the ground._

_they try to calm their breathing, to slow their pounding heart. their chest feels tight, but they force themself to inhale, then exhale, then repeat. as their focus shifts from the panic of falling, they become gradually more aware of the ropes suspending them in the air. they’re still blinded, but the familiar scratch is a sensation they could identify anywhere._

_usually, the feeling would be a comfort, something they could recognise, but now they feel choked, breaths stopping as the knots tighten and constrict their limbs._

they awaken with a choked gasp, wrapping their arms tightly around themself as they sit up. their breaths are short and painful, their throat trying to fight every shaky inhale. a small voice of reason tells them that having their arms wrapped around themself like this won’t help them breathe, but they’re unable to bring themself to move.

it feels like hours until they can collect their thoughts, and when they finally look up, they can see light filtering in through the window. they draw their knees to their chest, desperately trying to find something to focus on other than the waves of anxiety and nausea that wash over them. they scratch and pick at their exposed skin as their breaths finally even out, and when they draw their hands back to their lap, they can see drying blood collecting under their nails. they’re somewhat aware of the stinging sensation on the left side of their jaw and shoulder, but they don’t make any attempt to check the damage. they rest the back of their head against the wall, but they sit up straight again when there’s a knock at the door.

‘kiyo? are you okay? you sounded a bit, uh, distressed.’ rantaro’s voice is grounding, and korekiyo only realises that they’ve failed to respond when the door is slowly pushed open. ‘sorry, i was just a bit worried that something had happened…’ he trails off slightly as he sees their shoulder, so they come to the conclusion that they must have done a little more than just pick a scab. ‘oh, kiyo.’ he comes a little closer, and he must have sensed the residing anxiety from their dream, because he steps back as soon as they tense the slightest amount. ‘ah, sorry, should’ve asked. can i see your shoulder? that looks pretty nasty.’ they nod silently, letting rantaro sit next to them, slightly pull the collar of their shirt, and gently examine the scratches on their jaw and shoulder. the concept of being asked for permission is still foreign to them, but they don’t hate it. even though they automatically allow most things to happen out of habit, it feels oddly good to know that there’s always an option out here.

they hiss in pain as rantaro touches a slightly deeper wound, earning a multitude of rushed apologies. it’s somewhat uncomfortable having his hands on their bare skin, but it’s slightly comforting that he’s not straying any further than just checking the severity of their injuries.

‘you did a number on yourself, didn’t you?’ rantaro’s voice is gentle as his touch, even as he tilts their jaw to get a better look at the damage there. ‘you might need to get the nurses to look at that so it doesn’t get infected.’ he readjusts their collar until it’s in its previous position, then looks back up at them. ‘did something happen? you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.’

‘you’ll think it’s stupid.’ korekiyo admits quietly, examining their nails.

‘i’ll never think anything you say is stupid. also, nothing you could do is as stupid as me; when i was younger, i cried every night for a week because i had a dream about killer robot guinea pigs. i doubt you could top that.’ they smile a little at that, and rantaro seems to brighten a little. ‘i like it when you smile.’

‘it’s not quite killer robot guinea pigs, but i just had a very… unpleasant dream. i’d rather not going into the details.’ they wrap their hand around their wrist, touching their thumb with all of their fingers before moving slightly further up their arm.

‘you don’t have to say anything you don’t want to, kiyo. but if you ever want to tell me anything, or just want to chat, i’m here.’ he stands up again slowly, giving them an easy smile. ‘i’ll come back when it’s time for breakfast, okay?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while!! i took a break from writing for a while for reasons i'm not quite sure of myself, but i'm back now!! school starts again pretty soon for me, so i'm not sure how much i'll be able to update, or even if i'll be able to access ao3 at school, but i'll try to post somewhat regularly!! thanks for putting up with me <3!!


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